(Disclaimer: All Chapters of this story are the product of my own creation using the characters from the T.V. show Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles. I am making no money off it and write solely for my own entertainment)
Special thanks to Fortex for betaing the chapter as well as helping me with concepts and ideas for the story.
Chapter 3: Min egen dagsorden
John laid on his back staring at the sky in the backyard of their new house. As he looked up into the cloudless blue he couldn't help but feel at peace with the world around him. A soft breeze, birds chirping, and no machines from the future trying to kill him; life was good. Shutting his eyes, he basked in the warm sun. Moments such as these were rare and should be enjoyed to the fullest. A shot of pain from one of many bruised muscles reminded him he was full of crap. His entire life had been based around constantly doing something and when he did nothing it irked him to no end. Peace was never on the agenda for John Connor. He moved to get up but another series of aches and pains convinced him otherwise.
'Am I really that rusty?' he questioned. The past hour had been spent sparring to help fix the damage from acting normal for six months…or was that eight years and six months?
Six months didn't mean too much to an experienced fighter. So long as they didn't let their body go completely the damage from a six month hiatus was minimal. After all, the body never forgot the motions that had been trained into it day in and day out…even if the mind did.
'Instinct at its best.' He mused, but instinct only went so far.
While his body went through the motions, his mind questioned them. Is this right? Is my stance to wide? Am I leaving myself open? Such questions were distractions and served as a hindrance. When you fight your mind shouldn't be critiquing you, but your opponent. Strike the leg or the gut? Are they overextended? Was that a feint? Those were the questions that needed to ask. Combat was all about action and reaction and the most skilled fighters knew to focus on reaction. Another lance of pain shot through John causing him to wince.
'Why did I ever let her talk me into that?' he pondered. It had been his mother's idea to stop sparring with him. "Normal boys don't spar with their mothers" she had said. To which he replied "I'm older than my father, I don't rank as normal". Now that he thought about it, that argument hadn't ended well.
As his thoughts turned to his mother he couldn't keep them from travelling a dark road. After they had acquired some money and clothes, she had once more taken the reigns of leadership. At the time he had no problem with that, she was more experienced after all. But the problems started coming when she started forcing him to the sidelines. She started keeping everything to herself and doing most things alone. Occasionally she would send Cameron out to gather more funds, but for John it was always the same thing. Stay inside where you'll be safe. Their plans, their options, their objectives all became her plans, her choices, and her objectives.
A frown found its way onto his face as he thought over the events that occurred over the past week. His faith in his mother was faltering. He felt she didn't trust him that she couldn't rely on him, and that would only serve as a catalyst for things down the road. Sighing he decided to run with it for a little longer. Going half-cocked into a world he hadn't been a part of for nearly eight years would be risky and it would only widen the gap that he could feel developing between him and his mother.
Still, after a week of house arrest his patience was nearing its end. He had already finished the security system for their new house and with what little money they currently had, that pretty much meant he had completed the only thing that could keep him busy. All he had left now was to train his body physically and since his mother was usually out "gathering intel" that meant the only person he could rely on was his terminator guardian, Cameron.
'Speak of the devil.' He thought as her shadow fell over him. Cracking open one eye he looked up at her. Her current wardrobe consisted of the exact same clothes she wore before he asked her to spar. A grey t-shirt with the name of some band he had never heard of emblazoned on the front and a denim skirt. Being a walking weapon meant she didn't have to change into anything for a sparring match, he supposed. As he took in her appearance he realized that from his current angle laying on the ground he could see directly up her skirt. John being the perfect gentleman that he was opened the other eye.
"Are we going to continue?" Cameron asked looking down at her charge.
"Nope." He responded cheerfully. "I think I'll continue to lay here and stare at the sky."
"You're not staring at the sky."
"…I can still see it."
A moment of silence followed John's response. The two remained stationary with Cameron watching him and John watching a certain part of her. Another minute passed before Cameron broke the silence.
"John?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm not human."
Instantly the fun he was having disappeared. Why was it always three little words that carried the most power? For lovers it was "I love you", but for John it was "I'm not human". Part of him wished to go back to that school in rat's ass New Mexico and relive the time he shared with her when he thought she was human. Sure she acted odd, but it had been kind of cute. A small part of him wondered how far things would have gone had Cromartie not shown up. The kiss they shared fueling it on. It would have been a lie to say he hadn't developed a small crush on her at the time, but would it have evolved? That question would forever remain unanswered and he didn't know how he felt about that
For Cameron wasn't the cute, quirky, girl that kicked ass at gun games. She wasn't a girl at all really. She was a machine, a metal body with a pretty girl wrapping paper on top, a terminator. She would never be his first love that he would look back on with bittersweet memories. She was just a lie. One of many that dominated his life. Looking at her face for the first time since the conversation began, he sadly replied.
"…I know."
XxXxXxXxX
Later that afternoon, John could be found stepping out of the shower. His sparring match from earlier had left his body sweaty and bruised and the hot water from the shower had been a godsend for his aching muscles. Wrapping a towel around his waist he wiped the mirror of its condensation and checked the varying degrees of bruising that now decorated his body. Turning around and looking over his shoulder, he gently prodded a large purple bruise and winced.
*KNOCK*KNOCK*
"Yeah?" he asked while he continued his inspection.
"Are you decent?" He heard his mother ask.
Looking down at the towel covering his waist he shrugged and opened the door.
"I'm going-Oh God! What happened?" Sarah asked as she quickly moved into the bathroom and checked the numerous bruises on her son.
"Sparring with Cameron." He answered.
"Do I even want to know why you were sparring with a terminator?" She calmly asked with an underlying tone of hardness expressing her displeasure.
"Seemed like a good idea at the time."
Sarah gave her son one of her "you're stupid" stares. "You though sparring with an opponent who can snap bones as easily as you snap twigs, was a good idea?"
John felt her press hard on one of his larger bruises in an attempt to drive her point home. Using the same sarcasm she showed him, he replied. "Yeah, the idea came to me after my mom left me with my metal babysitter for the fifth consecutive day after moving into our new house."
"John…"
"But that's not all. You see the three of us, my mom, robo-nanny 2000, and myself all jumped eight years into the future. And guess what? After five days of living in the future, I still have no idea how much things have changed. You see my mom…she's a little paranoid and wont' let me out of the house because I don't have the proper forms of identification."
"Okay, John…"
"So I patiently wait for her to get our new identification, but every time she goes out it's for "research". Common sense would lead you to believe that more information could be gathered if everyone pitched in rather than only one of us. But what would I know? I'm just the future-leader-of-mankind-in-training."
"Alright, John!" Sarah firmly spoke cutting off any further comments from her son. "You've made your point. I'll seek out Enrique and get our new identities."
"You're getting our new I.D.s?" Came the voice of their resident terminator.
Sarah frowned at her approach. The machine had been useful while on the run, but now there was nothing they really needed protection from and the idea of a long term metal guardian didn't sit well with her. "That's what I said."
"Then we should be going." She said, turning to leave.
"Just a second there, Tin Man."
"…Tin man?" John muttered under his breath.
Sarah ignored him. "We aren't going anywhere. I'm going to get our new papers and you are to stay here and watch John."
"If we're getting new I.D.s then you'll need me to take you to John's men." Cameron stated.
The two Connors shared a look of surprise.
XxXxXxXxX
"Five days! We're in the future for five days and not once did you feel the need to share that there are others fighting SKYNET here!?" Sarah fumed. She had managed to hold her anger in check the whole way to a nearby parking garage. But now within the privacy of their soon to be new stolen car, did she let the machine know how she felt. Cameron continued to hotwire the car, not once showing any interest in what Sarah had to say. She had a mission to do and no where in the mission parameters did it say anything about considering the older woman's feelings.
Before Sarah could continue venting on the terminator, her cell phone rang. Knowing it could only be one person; she took a few deep breaths before answering it. "What is it, John?"
"Done yelling at her yet?" He asked.
Glaring at the machine for good measure she replied in a neutral tone, "I wasn't yelling."
"Yeah, of course you weren't," He said with much sarcasm. "Can you hand her the phone?"
Pulling the phone away from her ear she looked at it for a few seconds with mixed feelings. John hadn't called to speak with her, but with the machine. Handing the phone over to Cameron, Sarah could only hope this would not be a continuing trend.
Cameron took the phone and brought it to her ear. "John?"
"She done yelling at you?"
Looking over she saw Sarah glaring out the window. A more detailed scan picked up all the subtle hits to indicate that she was still angry. "Possibly."
"Look, don't pay her too much mind. She doesn't trust machines regardless of which side they're on."
"Understood." Cameron replied.
"Yeah well it makes things a right pain in the ass. I mean, you're here to help us and you can't do that if she's second-guessing your every move."
"She will adjust given time."
"…Yeah…sure." He said uncertainly. "By the way, is there anything else I should know? You really blindsided us when you said future-me sent back more soldiers."
"No. There's nothing."
"…Alright. See ya later then." he said before hanging up.
XxXxXxXxX
John stared at the phone in his hand. Cameron had said there was nothing else she was hiding, but he wasn't so certain. She had already shown that she was capable of withholding important information. And while she said there was nothing more she was hiding, he wasn't certain if he could believe that. Something was off. As the old saying goes, he could feel it in his gut.
His instincts had been right when he first met Cameron and sensed something was off with her, just like it had been right about Cromartie, and just like it had been right when the T-1000 had impersonated his mother. Now his gut was telling him either Cameron couldn't be trusted or that she was hiding something big. He didn't have any evidence to support either possibility, but it didn't matter. He was no longer pretending to be John Reese just your everyday normal teenage boy. No, now he was back in the role of John Connor future leader of man kind. And John Connor trusted his instincts, especially when it came to terminators.
XxXxXxXxX
The trip to the resistance hideout was short and silent, with Cameron taking the quickest route. Pulling to the side of the road the two got out and headed to a worn out looking four story apartment complex that the terminator had pointed out. As they entered the lobby, Sarah broke the silence, "How many are there?"
"Four."
"These resistance fighters…they know you?" She questioned. If they weren't expecting any company the last thing Sarah wanted to do was approach four experienced soldiers with a terminator in tow.
Cameron neared the stairwell and glanced up. "They've seen me before."
'Sounds like they enjoy your company about as much as I do.' She thought as she followed her up the stairs.
"Why would they have a room at the top floor? The first floor would provide you with the quickest means of escape." She mused aloud.
"Quickest way for an assassin to get to them as well." Cameron replied. Sarah stopped for a second to consider that angle.
"Touché." She said before marching forward.
As Cameron neared the door she noted several things amiss; the boot imprint on the center of the door, the broken wood near the lock and the door being held ajar by the still extended lock bolt. Pushing the door open she did a quick scan of the room before entering. Four bodies lay on the ground showing no life signs.
Stepping further into the room, she approached one of the bodies whilst Sarah followed behind. Shutting the door quickly and quietly to keep from drawing attention she turned around and watched as the terminator raised the right arm of one of the corpses and pulled the sleeve back revealing a black mark that appeared to be a barcode of some sort.
"I've seen that mark before," She said. "Kyle Reese had one just like it."
"It's the mark of a SKYNET work camp. He was a prisoner." Cameron explained.
"Does John have one?"
The terminator paused what she was doing and looked her right in the eyes, giving her an unspoken answer.
"Yes."
Having finished checking the second body, she moved on to the third. This one had fallen on his stomach rather than on his back or side. As she turned the body over she glanced at a face she didn't recognize.
'A last minute change?' She pondered as she raised his right arm. As she was about to pull back the man's sleeve his eyes shot open, catching her off guard. The man grabbed both her wrists and threw her off with more force than any human could match.
'The killer.' She corrected as the hostile terminator stood up and marched over to her, ignoring Sarah. The male terminator grabbed her arms and lifted her up, possibly to throw her again. But Cameron had, had enough with being tossed around. Her arms snapped out with their own inhuman strength. Breaking his hold she went to attack him only for him to grab her again. Breaking his hold again she again tried to renew her attack only to be thwarted for a second time. She broke his grip for the third time and changed tactics.
With his hands no longer holding her, she used all her strength and pushed the machine back into and through a wall. Stepping over the remains she moved over to him to continue her assault. However, when she was within arms reach her opponent grabbed her ankle and yanked her off her feet. With the roles reversed and her opponent standing, Cameron was unable to stop the larger terminator from lifting her up and slamming her against the wall.
Her assailant knew he had to get rid of her quick and rushed to the window, intent on throwing her out of it. Cameron knew she couldn't let him succeed. If he did, Sarah would be left to deal with the machine alone. As the lager terminator threw her, she grabbed his jacket and pulled him with her. The combined force of the two machines sent them rocketing high above the alley and into the brick wall of the adjacent building.
Sarah rushed to the window to check on the two machines. She watched as the male terminator looked at Cameron briefly before getting up and running away. Cameron followed suit not long after. Turning away from the window she ran for the door, only stopping to scoop up a handgun. As she exited the building she looked both ways before finding a man sitting on a motor cycle and talking on his cell phone.
"Off!" She ordered him at gunpoint. The man quickly complied. Getting onto the bike she started its engine before rushing off the direction she believed the two machines had gone.
Meanwhile, Cameron chased her larger counterpart through various alleys and over a number of fences. The male terminator had just finished leaping over and iron fence and ducking under the ledge of a building, but his large frame was working against him. More than once he found his pace forcefully slowed down by his size allowing his pursuer to close in. As he crossed the street into another alley a motorcycle came sliding on its side seemingly from out of nowhere. The vehicle struck true and hit the terminator's legs, knocking him off his feet.
Seeing her opponent on the ground, Cameron ceased running and walked briskly across the street. Halfway across the sound of tires on pavement alerted her to a fast approaching vehicle. Cameron turned her head just in time to see the car before it hit her. The male terminator saw his chance and made a run for it. Sarah jogged up to where the motorcycle had stopped and watched as the machine exited the other side of the alley and turned the corner. There would be no chance of catching him now.
Cameron appeared a moment later after having pulled herself free from the car that had struck her. Looking at Sarah, she said, "We should leave. Before the police get here."
Sarah said nothing as she ran away.
XxXxXxXxX
When they were two blocks away from their house Sarah pulled the car to the side of the road. Chances were it was reported by now and they didn't want to be anywhere near it should the police find it. Walking past the waist-high fence that bordered the front yard Cameron was about to enter the house when Sarah grabbed her arm and pushed her against the wall near the door.
"You told me we'd be safe! SAFE!" She said shaking the terminator for good measure. "Was that safe!? Less than a week here and we're already at war! Why jump at all? Why not stay in the past?"
Cameron didn't answer.
"I had seven more years to get ready! To get him ready!"
"No you wouldn't have." She interjected.
"And why not?"
"Because you died. Two years ago." She answered, before elaborating. "December 4th, 2005. You died."
Sarah was shocked at the news. It wasn't everyday you were told the exact date of your death. Cameron moved to open the door, but was stopped by Sarah again.
"Don't tell John. About this or that there are other machines sent by SKYNET."
"Why?" Cameron asked tilting her head in confusion.
"Because if he knows he'll insist on coming with us. He'll want to be there should we be attacked. I'd rather he be here, at the house. That way I know where he is and they don't."
"John should know." The terminator insisted.
"And he will. But only after we have everything we need. Papers, guns, money…everything we would have gotten from those soldiers. Understand?"
Cameron only stared.
XxXxXxXxX
John sighed as he entered the living room. He had looked up and down Cameron's room looking for anything out of place. But there was nothing. Truth be told, he hadn't expected to find anything anyway. They had only been living in the house for less than a week. Not only that but they had come to the future with nothing, not even the clothes on their back. How could Cameron have possibly managed to smuggle something it the house without Sarah or him noticing?
'Guess it wasn't a total loss.' He mused. He had checked every nook, cranny, and drawer during his search. It was only a matter of time before he stumble upon Cameron's unmentionables. 'I'd have never guessed she was a 36b.'
As John was picturing the sight of his bodyguard in her underwear, the front door opened revealing the source of his fantasy. As he looked at her he took note of the scratches and scrapes covering her face and the tears in her jacket.
"What the hell happened?"
"I will require your assistance to take care of my injuries." She stated, ignoring his question. "Head to the kitchen, I will be there shortly with the first aid kit."
John was left in a state of confusion as he watched her walk down the hall. Turning around he hoped to get some answers from his mother. As she stepped into the house he took note of her sober expression. John decided to hold off on his interrogation. Something happened, something big. But what?
XxXxXxXxX
Less than five minutes later found the group congregating in the kitchen. John stood behind a shirtless Cameron picking shards of glass out of her back with a pair of tweezers. For the sake of modesty and to keep the young future leader of mankind focused on the task at hand, she left her bra on. On the table laid an open first aid kit with its supplies scattered about.
"So…" John started as he yanked out a large fragment and brought it to eye level for inspection. "What the hell happened?"
Cameron looked over at Sarah, prompting her to speak.
"Robo-Nanny forgot to look both ways before crossing the streets."
"You were hit by a car!?" He said with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Cameron looked over her shoulder at him.
"Yes." She said before turning back around.
"How!? I mean you're a super computer from the future! Don't you have a built in radar or something!?"
Shrugging she responded, "Shit happens."
"Now I wonder where she learned that." Sarah pondered aloud while glaring at her son. John ignored her.
"No, shit happens to stupid people who aren't paying attention."
"Well, I guess that makes our little terminator friend a stupid machine who wasn't paying attention."
John debated if starting an argument defending Cameron would be worth the effort. Giving a small shake of his he started packing up the first aid kit. "How 'bout the soldiers? Did you meet up with them?"
"Yes," His mother answered.
"…and?"
"They were dead." She answered evenly.
"Dead!?" John exclaimed. "How? Why?"
"Yes, dead." Sarah repeated. "How, is by gunshot. The why however…is anyone's guess. They were hiding in a bad neighborhood it could have been for any number of reasons."
"How could four experienced soldiers possibly be taken down? Bad neighborhood or not, I just don't see how they could be taken out by some small time wannabe badass." He thought aloud.
"Experience means nothing if someone gets the drop on you." Cameron supplied.
Sighing he let the topic drop and turned to his mother. "School registration is at three tomorrow. You think we can get those papers sometime before then?"
Sarah walked over and placed a comforting hand on her son's shoulder. "Try to be patient a little longer. You'll get your new identity soon enough…is being a Connor really such a bad thing?"
"Only most days." He said dejectedly. Sarah hadn't expected that response.
"Yeah…right." She agreed quietly before walking out. When she was out in the hall she collapsed against the wall. What could she possibly have said to him? "Buck up, you're the future leader of mankind"? Who in their right mind would find that future appealing?
No matter what way she looked at it, John was right. Being a Connor rarely had its good days. Constantly running for your life, fighting machines from the future, knowing the exactly when the apocalypse would come; and that was just naming a few of the burdens that followed them.
'April 21, 2011…and I died on December 4, 2005.' She thought. Those two dates were her burden. One she shared with John, the other by herself. The weight of those dates however, had little bearing. It was the time between them and how efficiently it was used that really mattered. The date of her death had been jumped over, but all that meant was her time was coming and once again it was a question of when.
Turning around she marched back into the kitchen. Passing her son, who was looking at her curiously she walked up to Cameron and said, "You ready to go tin man?"
"Tin man?" Both John and Cameron questioned, though for different reasons.
"Yes, are you patched up and not showing any of your shiny under-parts off?" She said impatiently while John tried to stifle his laughter at her word choice.
"Thank you for explaining." She stated before walking to and out the door.
Rounding on her son, Sarah opened her mouth to speak but was cut off.
"Yeah, yeah…be a statue, no going outside; chain yourself to the wall for good measure. I get it."
"I mean it, John! You better be here when we get back."
"Where would I go? It's not like I really know what's out there." He responded with annoyance.
"And that's why you need to stay inside." Sarah said before leaving.
XxXxXxXxX
Once more in the car, the two women were on their way to meet with Sarah's old contact and friend, Enrique. As she drove the car Cameron would tell her when and where to turn. Part of her wondered how it was that the terminator knew where to go but brushed the thought off. All that mattered was getting there. After a moment of silence, Sarah spoke.
"So was it all a lie? Did you really bring us to the future just to jump my death?"
Cameron looked over at her and shook her head. "No, fighting SKYNET is one of my orders. John wanted us to jump your death because he wanted his best fighter aiding him."
"I'm sure he has soldiers far better than-"
"No," Cameron interrupted. "The best. You taught him everything he knows. Everything that makes him who he is. You are the best soldier to John."
Sarah felt a burst of pride. Kyle had told her she was viewed as a legendary soldier in the future, but she had been skeptical. Hearing someone else, even if it was a terminator say the same thing made her happy. Everything she did, everything she'd endured had not been in vain. She left her mark in the world and against SKYNET. For Sarah there was no better end.
"So if I was such great soldier, how did I die?" She asked curiously.
"Cancer."
"Guess you can't win every battle."
"No…you can't." The terminator agreed.
XxXxXxXxX
John paced back and forth in the kitchen. That was all he had to do. Every possible thing that could occupy his time was done. Chores, installing the security system, riffling though Cameron's underwear drawer…though that last one wasn't entirely intentional. But it was all done. Looking over at the microwave for the seventh time he saw the green numbers 3:42 flashing at him. It had been exactly five minutes since he started watching it.
"Arg!!!" He groaned in frustration. Walking over to the kitchen window he looked at the outside world with envy. What possible dangers could lie out there? Cromartie was gone, destroyed inside the bank before the time jump and the time jump alone would make it more difficult for SKYNET to find him. The only thing he had to worry about was running into cops. If they tried to I.D. him or worse, realize who he was, then that would be the end of it. However, that being said the police wouldn't be actively seeking them either. They would be looking for a twenty-four year old hacker, not the fifteen year old teenager that he still was.
"…Fuck it." He said quietly to himself. His mind made up, John left the house.
XxXxXxXxX
"I am not surprised." Enrique said as he sat down with Sarah at his side and Cameron across from him. "I know I looked surprised in that first moment. But I am not surprised."
The aged freedom fighter looked over at Cameron, a new face to him. "Do you know this woman?" He asked. Before she could answer, he continued. "It's rhetorical. If you don't, you don't. But if you do and you're anything like her, you'll lie and say you don't. But if you do…then I know you, like me are not surprised."
Despite the complexity and power of her processor, Cameron couldn't help but feel slightly confused when trying to follow his words. Enrique turned his attention to Sarah and said joyfully. "And John! He's a man now!"
Sarah nodded, "He's really grown. He misses you." Not wanting to beat around the bush, she cut right to the chase. "I need three sets of papers. I can pay…not a lot, but some up front and more later on."
A shake of his finger left her feeling perplexed.
"Why not?"
"I'm finished with that life."
"What?" She questioned. Just how much had changed since the time jump?
"Are you familiar with Ricardo Lopez?" He questioned. Seeing Sarah shake her head he elaborated. "The boxer from Guatemala. He's very famous in my country. His nickname is, El Finito."
"The Finisher." She translated.
"Yes! He fought fifty-two fights, fifty-one victories, one draw, and no losses. Zero."
"I don't understand." Cameron cut in. This had nothing to do with what they wanted. To her, Enrique was wasting their time.
"I want to be El Finito. To retire undefeated." He explained. "I lived my wild life. I fought the wars I wanted to…and a few I did not." Gesturing around, he continued. "Now look at me! I live everyday free. Not one day behind bars or in the hands of the enemy! So now…I am finished. El Finito."
"Happy for you." Sarah said sullenly. "Sad for me, but happy for you."
Giving her a mirthful smile, he stood up. "Hey, don't give up so easily. I did not say I cannot help."
Walking into another room he soon returned with a pen and paper. "My nephew, Carlos has…how we say, taken over the family business. His operation is good…but he is not a believer."
Sarah wished that meant for her what it did for him. She wished there would be more people out there who believed in Judgment day. But that sort of naïve thinking was what landed her in Pescadero.
No…Enrique's meaning of believer stemmed from those who believed in your cause. For the most part that meant they were fellow freedom fighters. But overtime it came to mean brotherhood. For Enrique, a believer was someone you could count on to have your best interests at heart.
"Few believers left." She said as she took Carlos's address.
XxXxXxXxX
John stood on the outskirts of the mall; fortunately some things in Los Angeles stayed the same. Entering the building he quickly moved over to the directory and started scanning the store names. Some he recognized, some he did not. As he scanned through the names he found the one he was looking for; it had been a large computer retailer in the past and odds were it still was. Seeing that it hadn't moved anytime in the past eight years he made his way to it. When he got there, shock filled his mind.
Eight years wasn't really a long time to most people. For children and teenagers it seemed long because of the changes their bodies undergo. For computers, eight years may as well have been eight hundred years. The rate of improvement in technology was such that when the latest components are released, they are already obsolete. For John, who hadn't been around to watch this change, it was like stepping onto a Star Trek set.
Laptops were sleek and compact, but underneath that small frame was a powerful system. Back in 1999 laptops were practically dinosaurs in comparison; smaller than a desktop but larger than an algebra textbook. Browsing up and down the aisles he became enraptured by the many shapes and sizes. He studied each tag listing its components and properties.
'I so gotta get me one of these.' He thought as he finished reading another tag.
Despitethe elation that came with his screening, John felt some trepidation. Eight years ago he was one of the world's greatest hackers and had more knowledge on computers than practically anyone else in comparison. But none of that meant anything anymore. No one would be using the computers and programs he was familiar with. They would be using newer versions of those programs and be equipped with far more complex means of protection. He would have to virtually start from scratch and rebuild his fundamentals. But now the stakes were higher and he couldn't afford to get caught hacking.
'Looks like I'll be having a few study dates with my super-computer babysitter.' He thought as he walked over to a laptop labeled "display". Cameron would be the perfect person to help him get acquainted with the changes in technology. After all, while this was high-tech to him, it was primitive to her.
As his hands settled onto the keyboard and mouse a cold rush ran through his body. He was a junkie for technology and here was his fix. Moving the mouse over to the internet icon he double clicked and watched the screen popup, unaware of the HD monitor behind him was showing the store what the laptop showed him. Moving the cursor to the search bar, he typed in two words; a name, "John Connor". Pressing enter he was rewarded with a long list of results.
Scrolling down he saw one that dealt with his "latest" crime, the holdup at the bank along with his subsequent death. Double clicking the link he scrolled down, ignoring the text. A large picture from a security camera showed Cameron pointing a gun at the teller while his mother and he stood behind her. John quickly took a moment to look up and see if anyone was watching. Considering the coast to be clear he scrolled down further. The next picture showed a black man in a suit. Looking down at the footnote under the picture he read "FBI Agent James Ellison was in charge of the Connor case". He scrolled down a bit further until a name in blue caught his eye. Charley Dixon.
He knew what the blue text meant and quickly clicked on it taking him to a different page and coincidentally a different story. Finding a picture featuring a group of men, he scanned the faces looking for the one that belonged to a man he loved as a father. The search didn't take long, but his viewing was cut short when a voice snapped him to attention.
"Who's Charley Dixon?"
John's head whipped up bringing him face to face with one of the store's clerks.
"You shouldn't browse with the demos." She advised with a smile while pointing to something behind him. Looking over his shoulder, John was shocked to see the same page he was looking at available for everyone to see. Moving the mouse over to the top right corner he quickly closed the page. The clerk moved around the counter and quickly took control of the mouse. "You want to delete your history too?"
"Uh, what?" He asked distractedly while looking around. If the clerk saw the page with Charley then it was possible someone saw the page featuring him.
"Snoopy people dude, snoopy people." The clerk said as she deleted the computers internet history before emptying the recycle bin. Turning back to John she gave him a smile. "We have a special on those."
"Maybe later." He replied hastily before quickly exiting the store.
As John left the store his body fell into what he called a retreat mode. His subconscious recognized there may be an unseen threat and that escape was important. His head tipped slightly but not the full forty-five degrees that most people fleeing would give. His hands moved to his jacket pockets and relaxed rather than jammed in as far as they could go. His stride didn't speed up, but the distance between each step was far longer than usual to compensate. The best way not to get caught fleeing was to look like you weren't fleeing at all.
"Way to go John! Trying to learn more about the future without drawing attention and you post your face on a giant TV screen! Even better, your picture is accompanied with a story on how you, your mother, and a third associate held up a bank and died! Real smooth dick-wad, why don't you just go turn yourself in and save yourself the embarrassment!" He muttered under his breath. A few people glanced over, but his words were too soft for them to make out. No one gave him a second look. He was just another teenager in need of medication.
"Future leader of mankind in a war against killer super-computers and you get duped by one that isn't even a terminator!" He continued berating himself at the same quiet pitch. However, that didn't keep one passerby from hearing him clear as day.
"John Connor?" A deep male voice called out.
Like all people do, John instantly turned around looking for who called his name. It didn't take him long to lock eyes with a tall red headed man with broad shoulders and a blank look on his face. A look he knew all too well.
"Fuck me…" He said with much dismay before breaking into a full-out run. The red headed terminator took that as all the proof he needed and quickly gave chase.
John counted what little fortune he had. With it being a sunny Sunday afternoon the mall was packed. Weaving between the crowds he was able to put a fair amount of distance between him and the terminator chasing him. Due to the machine's large body it was constantly forcing people out of the way and was unable to utilize its full speed. But John didn't expect that to stop the machine, he needed more things to fill the gap.
As he neared the center of the mall he saw four possible directions; left, right, forward, and up. Getting closer to the center he threw a quick look around, not once stopping. A large group of people started for the up-escalator and John made his decision. Running to the escalator he roughly forced his way ahead of the group and continued running up the moving stairs. A slew of insults followed him only to be replaced with yells of fright as the terminator forced his way through, even going so far as to throw one of the patrons over the side of the escalator.
By the time the machine reached the top of the escalators, John was thirty feet away and rounding a corner. He didn't know if it was lucky or not with it being the second time in his life that a machine hunted him in a mall, but the knowledge from his past experience helped him in making decisions. Such as the one that told him not to go into the service hallways like he had in the past. They were narrow, devoid of obstacles, and for the most part only went one way.
Another thing he found relief in was the fact that the terminator didn't have a gun. If it had then it would have been firing at him by now. It wouldn't care about collateral. The T-1000 and T-800 hadn't cared about the mall maintenance worker and Cromartie hadn't cared about Cameron back at the school.
Up ahead John saw a wing of the mall that ended with a series of glass doors. Stores lined the sides but most were beauty salons for doing nails and hair. Not the best place for a young teenage boy to hide. One of the stores was a blood drive set up by the American Red Cross. But there was no way in hell he would hide in there. It would defeat the purpose of keeping his blood inside his body. Plus he didn't think they'd be to understanding of his situation. He only had one option, the doors leading outside.
Running past the stores and around the many people entering the mall he pushed open the doors and ran out into the daylight. The lot was large and full of parked cars offering him a better chance at hiding than when he had run from Cromartie. As he ran towards the parking lot he noticed a car parked on the side of the road nearly fifteen feet from the entrance of the mall. He briefly took note that its engine was running and its driver was sitting inside. A brief flash of thought made him consider high-jacking the vehicle, but he quickly chose against it. Such an action would take too long and by the time he got inside the car, the terminator would be upon him.
As he crossed the road towards the parking lot he glanced over at the car on final time. The driver was an old man roughly in his mid-sixties. From what John thought the man to be in good shape from what he saw, but there were too many factors to say if he was right or not. The vehicle started moving and the driver glared at him making a shooing motion. John felt a small smile tug at his lips at the irony. The driver's motions were aimed towards the parking lot.
Twenty feet into the sea of cars, he heard the loud screech of tires followed by a crash and people screaming. Looking over his shoulder he saw the car he had briefly considered stealing with its hood smashed in and the driver rushing out of the car towards a body lying on the street. The driver had hit the terminator.
'Thank you, lady luck. You mind-fucking bitch!' He thought both thanking and cursing the persona he saw as his guardian angel.
Passing a Ford pickup, he noticed a tarp resting in the bed. He looked around to see if anyone or more importantly anything could see him before jumping into the bed and pulling the tarp over his body. There were too many cars for the machine to check everyone of them; all he had to do was wait for the owner of the truck to arrive and drive away. A frown crossed his face as the heat from the truck bed combined with the humidity created by the tarp covering him set in, it would be a miserable wait.
XxXxXxXxX
The red headed terminator picked itself up off the asphalt. The car had been an unexpected variable. Part of him wondered if the hit from the vehicle had been intentional.
"Jesus Christ, son! Are you ok?" The driver asked. He was an elderly gentleman with shoulder-length grey hair tied in a low ponytail with a bushy salt and pepper beard.
Looking over the parking lot, the terminator zoomed in on every person trying to find his target. When everyone had been scanned with no possible matches showing up it switched it vision to heat, but that too proved useless as the heat rising off many of the parked cars interfered with the scan. Turning to the driver, he took note of the worry on his face and the damage to the car.
"Sorry for your car." The terminator said before walking off. It had lost sight of John Connor, but no matter. After he completed his primary objective he would seek out Tech-coms leader.
The elderly driver smirked at the machine's back, "Nothing to be sorry for."
XxXxXxXxX
Sarah opened the driver side door of their stolen car and stepped out. A vehicle loudly playing hip-hop music passed the driveway. Looking around, she reached behind her waist and made sure the handgun she took from the resistance hideout was held securely. Unlike the lie she had told John about the hideout, this place was in a bad neighborhood. Gang symbols spray painted on walls and buildings attested to that. Glancing over the top of the vehicle she saw Cameron looking at her expectantly.
Sarah walked towards the house. Her eyes scanning the area, she took note of possible forms of cover while noting the location of every person she could see. A quick glance at a second story window revealed another individual watching from inside. Looking over her shoulder quickly she saw Cameron gaze around before locking eyes with her. For the machine, her life was of little consequence. She was sent back to protect John and Sarah highly doubted the terminator would sacrifice itself to save her if things went sour.
A large, shirtless man of Latin descent walked past her. He was covered in tattoos and was probably meant to act as a form of intimidation. Sarah wasn't impressed, nor was she worried. By passing her, the large gang member put himself closer to Cameron. For the first time she found the saying "It's not what's on the outside, but what's within" to ring true.
As she neared the porch she saw a teenage girl leaning on the wooden railing seemingly staring off into space.
"Carlos," Sarah spoke hoping the name would be enough of an explanation for her visit. When the young woman failed to respond, she said. "Enrique sent us."
For the first time since she and seen her, the girl moved. A simple turn was followed up with a holier-than-thou look. Sarah gave no indication how much the look pissed her off. It was the same look she swore Cameron would give her. As if she was nothing but a bug in need of being squashed. After a moment of pause the young woman pushed herself off the rails and started walking to the door. Sarah and Cameron followed suit.
As they entered the house were led to the living room where a large number of young men, all of who were Latin gathered around. Three of the men were each holding a leash attached to the collars of three large dogs, mixed breeds from what Sarah could see. Upon noticing Cameron the dogs started snarling and barking. They fought hard against their bonds wanting to attack the machine. A young man in a red shirt and beige shorts came down the stairs yelling orders in a mixture of Spanish and English. Turning to her companion, Sarah suggested she head outside to help diffuse the chaos. Cameron nodded and walked back outside closely followed by the girl they met outside.
The man who descended the stairs seemed to finally give up and told the three men holding the dogs to take them out back. As they passed her, she watched them head to a door adjacent from the one she had entered. Sarah turned and gave one last look at Cameron. The red shirt man, who she assumed was Carlos from the way he had ordered the others, followed her gaze.
"Something bout your friend I should know?" He asked.
Shrugging she replied, "Cat person."
Carlos shrugged as well and started walking to one of the couches in the living room.
"Want a soda or something?"
"I'm good."
"We got the old fashioned soda machine." He said as if to entice her.
"I'm fine." She repeated. Quickly wanting to change the topic, she added. "So are all friends as sociable as Malibu Barbie out there?"
"Who, Chola? She's just that way with all new faces. Gotta separate the good customers from the bad, ya know? And most times the new faces are bad."
XxXxXxXxX
Outside Cameron stood near their car, her posture rigid. She watched with little interest as Chola approached. Her interest shot up a few notches when the Latin teen stepped in close. Her processer labeled the distance between them as a face-to-face encounter, something humans only did when they tried to intimidate someone. Looking at her from head to toe Cameron tried to figure out why the girl was trying to come off as a threat.
When Cameron failed to back away, Chola gave her a smirk. People had a tendency to become skittish when a stranger invaded their personal space. She took Cameron's lack of action as a challenge, as if to say "You don't scare me". Very few girls her age would do the same, even in this neighborhood. She found that commendable and backed off a step. Moving to stand beside her, Chola leant back and rested against the hood of the car.
Cameron was confused. Not realizing or understanding that she had gained Chola's respect. Looking over at her, she did a visual scan. The results told her Chola was roughly the same age as the one her organic tissue presented. Cameron thought back to the previous week when John had told her that just because she wasn't human didn't mean she couldn't act like one. How taking in such mannerisms would help her blend in and not draw any unwanted attention. Seeing Chola as the perfect model, she mimicked the pose getting a look mixed with annoyance and curiosity from her. The two stared at each other for a moment before looking off elsewhere.
XxXxXxXxX
"My uncle, he's very good at keeping secrets. I used to sit with him at family barbeques and try to get him to tell me some of 'em." Carlos reminisced.
"And how'd that work out for you?" Sarah politely asked.
"Not so good," He admitted. "Except one day, bout eight years ago I find him in the kitchen, bottle of Patrón and the Times. Know whose picture's on the front page?" Making a clicking noise, he pointed at her. "Only time I've ever seen my uncle cry."
"He's a good man."
Carlos shrugged. "Not for me to say. But he's my uncle...and you're as close as I'll ever get to one of his secrets. So I'm gonna give ya what you need."
"Thank you."
"Twenty-thousand."
Sarah let out a soft laugh in disbelief. "What? I don't have that."
"Twenty-thousand," He repeated. "And that's a family discount in these hard times. Especially for someone who's been dead eight years."
"That's extortion." She said with a frown.
"War on terrorism makes this the front lines, lady. Some rag-head gets fake papers here, we're all going to Guantanamo. 9/11 doubled prices overnight."
"9/11? What's that?" Sarah asked curiously. What could have possibly happened in the last eight years to warrant such high prices?
XxXxXxXxX
Outside, the familiar sound of a police radio could be heard drawing Cameron and Chola's attention. A tall cop stepped out of the vehicle and approached them.
"Hey, baby girl. What'd I tell you about hanging around?" He asked. Looking over at Cameron he added. "Who's your new friend here? Is she someone I need to know? Cause the longer you stand around, the more I think she's someone I need to know."
Chola rolled her eyes and walked off. The cop didn't bother stopping her.
"You got a name?" He asked stepping in towards Cameron.
Cameron recognized his actions to be similar to that of Chola's a few moments ago. Though he stood back a little farther than she had. Knowing the officer was expecting an answer she answered his question. "No."
She knew it would be best not to give him her given name. But the idea of using a false alias had the possibility of ending in disaster. Especially if Sarah were to walk out and call her by a different name. The officer gave a slight hum of annoyance. She was just another punk-ass teenager to him.
"This your car?"
"No. It's definitely not my car."
"See, I know just about everyone in this neighborhood, and you are not one of those everyone." He stated while walking around to check the side of the vehicle. "So now you got me wondering not just who you are, that you won't say but why you're here, and that you won't say."
Walking back around to stand in front of her again, he continued. "It's not uncommon in these neighborhoods for a gang dealing in drugs to store them inside of a stolen car. That way, no drugs can be found on their property or on any property belonging to them. But they also like to leave a lookout. Sometimes a pretty girl to watch their stash."
He wrote down the car's make, model, and license plates before looking back at her again. "Now since you claim this isn't your car, you won't mind if I call this license plate in, would you?"
As the cop started to walk away, Cameron's processor went into overdrive. The car was stolen and there was no doubt he would find out. Soon after that, more cops would arrive and the likelihood of their identities being exposed would greatly increase. There was only one thing for her to do. Kill the cop. If she was quick, he wouldn't be able to radio help and by the time someone came to investigate, she and Sarah would be long gone. Her choice made, she pushed off the car and moved quickly towards him.
"Jenny!" A voice called out. But it was ignored by both the officer and Cameron.
"Damn it, Jennifer!" The voice spoke again louder and laced with anger. This time the two did turn.
Sarah walked up towards Cameron and roughly grabbed her arm before dragging her past the officer. "How many times have I told you? Stop seeing that little prick! I swear to God. Is he meeting you here?"
"Ma'am?"
"Is he meeting you her? Is he meeting you here!?" She repeated with more ferocity.
"Ma'am?" The officer called out again. Sarah looked over at him. "You know this girl?"
"Yes, I know this girl!" She heatedly answered before looking back at Cameron. "Do I have any choice but to know you, you spoiled little bitch?"
Sarah was smirking on the inside. Despite the dangers associated with their situation, she found the whole thing to be a good form of stress relief. However, she couldn't keep this up forever. They needed to lose the cop.
"Do you do domestic complaints, officer? Can I make a domestic complaint against my spoiled little stepdaughter for making me want to beat my own brains in? It's her real mother's fault. Can I tell you what she lets her do?"
The officer shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like the idea of being pulled into an argument that was obviously personal. Wanting to change the subject, he asked. "Ma'am, is this your car?"
"Why would I drive that piece of crap?" Sarah answered quickly. All she needed was one more push and they would be on their way. "Because I will send you back to private school. The one with the uniforms. They will dress you like a flannel sock."
"Ma'am, maybe you can have this conversation somewhere else. Like at home perhaps? Out of gang territory." He suggested. The last thing he wanted was to get tied up with a family matter in the middle of a bad neighborhood.
"Gang territory?" She questioned with false surprise. The cop gave a quick nod. Sarah gave him a quick thanks before dragging Cameron away. She roughly pulled the terminator one block before finally letting go of her.
"Thirteen miles to walk home. We need another car." Cameron stated.
"Were you gonna kill that cop?" Sarah asked, but quickly decided to leave the question unanswered. "Never mind, I don't wanna know." Sarah thought back to the last terminator that had helped her and John. Remembering how compliant it had been, she spoke up. "We need rules. Aren't you supposed to take orders or something like that?"
"I do. From John."
"From John…" She repeated. The idea of her fifteen year old son having the power to order a machine with a pretty girl appearance made her nauseas. She quickly buried the thought. "So, if I told John to forbid you-"
"Not this John." She cut in.
"Not this John…Aren't they the same?"
Looking over at her, Cameron replied. "No. But they're close."
'Just what the hell does that mean?' Sarah pondered.
XxXxXxXxX
Night had finally set in as John walked up to the house belonging to Charley Dixon. His shirt and pants were still a little damp with sweat. His hair, while dry had a sickening gleam to it due to all the dirt in the truck bed and oil his body secreted. He had waited under the tarp for nearly twenty-five minutes before the driver finally arrived.
He was parched, filthy, and in a foul mood. He had twenty-five minutes where all he could do was think. Seeing a terminator at the mall had brought forth many questions. The biggest one being why there was terminator roving the streets of L.A. and if there were more. The machine didn't seem to be actively seeking him. How could it? It wouldn't…couldn't have possibly known he'd be at the mall. That had to be a chance encounter.
As he pondered over this a theory presented itself. If future-John could send back troops to aid him and provide him with supplies, then why couldn't SKYNET send back terminators with missions that didn't involve hunting him? The connection he made between the resistance and SKYNET brought forth more questions. Did Cameron know about this? Did his mother know? He knew they were hiding something, but why would they keep such important information hidden?
In the end, all he had were questions with no answers. So he changed his focus from the whys and hows and instead turned it towards the what. Namely, what was he going to do about it? The best solution ended with an encounter he was hoping to put off, but it couldn't be helped. If there were more terminators out there he would need some form of protection. And with no money or guns at his disposal and no papers to go about getting them that meant one thing. And his best bet was here.
So here he was, picking the lock to Charlie's house. He hoped to get in, get out and leave without running into one of the best father figures he ever had. He felt it would make things simpler. Entering the house and closing the door, John began his search. The first place he checked was the master bedroom, starting with all the cliché locations. Under the bed, dressers, closet. But nothing showed up. He moved on to the next room. Then the next one and the next one. But each ended in failure.
Coming down the stairs he moved towards the kitchen. As he passed a table stand in the hallway a couple of framed pictures caught his eye. Stopping to look at them, he grabbed one of the frames and brought it closer. The picture showed Charley sitting down with a blonde haired woman. The two were smiling and seemed to be really happy. Setting the picture back down, he moved over to a stack of envelopes sitting nearby and looked at the names.
To Mr. and Mrs. Dixon.
Charley was married now. John was torn. Part of him was really happy. Charley had been able to get on with his life. He fell in love and got married. He had moved on. But another part, a small part was both angry and jealous. John couldn't help but wish it was his mother and himself sitting with Charley wearing large smiles.
The sound of the front door suddenly opening and closing caused him to jump in surprise. Looking down the hall he saw him. The man he loved like a father. One of the few people he both trusted and respected. Charley stared back at him in shock and surprise.
"John?" He asked tensely. He couldn't believe it. He hadn't seen John in over eight years and yet there he was looking no different than the last time he saw him. "Johnny? Is that really you?"
"Hi Charley." He greeted after swallowing the lump in his throat.
"What happened?" Charley questioned, carefully moving towards him. He didn't want to make John nervous and run away.
"You got married?"
John knew the answer, but asked anyway.
"Yeah, I did." He answered quietly. John thought he heard a bit of shame and regret in his voice, but said nothing. "…She's a physician at the hospital I work for."
Not knowing what to say, the two fell into an awkward silence. Feeling it was safe, Charley once again asked what had happened eight years ago.
John sadly shook his head. "Trust me, you don't want to know. Besides…you wouldn't believe me even if I told you."
Charley was at a loss for words. What secrets could John possibly have that could be that bad? He tried to find the words to ask, but all that came out was, "Then why are you here?"
"You should know the answer to that." John answered sadly with his eyes looking at the floor. When he raised his head to look at Charley, the paramedic took a step back unconsciously. Those green eyes that looked ready to release a flood of tears were gone. Now they burned like emeralds in a bonfire. "I asked you to hang on to something for me."
John watched as Charley's eyes lit up in realization. "I said I'd be back."
(End of Chapter 3)
Sorry for the long wait between updates. I know it's been three months (almost 4) since my last update. I have no excuse and I'm not going to waste time thinking of one. For those who haven't read my profile, I have started working on Chapter 4. Now aside from some of the more obvious changes, those of you who pay attention to detail probably noticed a change in the amount of time that has gone by. This will happen a lot since I feel that TSCC had the characters adjust and get settled in way too quickly. That about covers it.
By the way the title is in Danish and reads "My Own Agenda". Sorry again for the wait and I hope you enjoyed chapter 3.
I forgot to write this, but John's 36b comment is paying homage to RubyFresh's story "36b and Body Heat". If you like Jameron I suggest you read it.